<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>clandestinity by theglitterati</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22899130">clandestinity</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/theglitterati/pseuds/theglitterati'>theglitterati</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Established Relationship, Hotel Sex, Lingerie, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, This is 1642 words of pure Otabek Thirst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 12:21:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,642</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22899130</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/theglitterati/pseuds/theglitterati</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Otabek is embarrassed to show his new outfit to Yuri. It involves lace, and little else.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>107</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>clandestinity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Beka? Are you dead?” Yuri called as he entered the hotel room. “Your text was fucking weird.” He’d received two messages from Otabek ten minutes earlier.</p><p>
  <em> Will you come up to my room? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I want to show you something before I chicken out. </em>
</p><p>“I’m here.” Otabek sat on the couch, the Viennese skyline glittering outside the window to his right — the location of Worlds this year. He wore baggy sweats, his hair still wet from the shower. It infuriated Yuri that even this unkempt, he still managed to look like a fucking god. But he couldn’t stay mad — Otabek was <em> his </em> boyfriend, he had chosen him, and Yuri got to look at him as much as he wanted. He crossed the room to plant a kiss on Otabek’s lips.</p><p>“So show me whatever it is,” he said, flopping on the couch.</p><p>Otabek scrunched up his face. “You have to promise not to make fun.”</p><p>“I won’t!” Yuri was almost offended. Beka was the only person in the world other than Grandpa that he loved; why the fuck would he make fun of him? He shook his head and kicked off his shoes. As he did, he noticed that Otabek wasn’t barefoot, as he had first thought. A layer of sheer black fabric covered his feet.</p><p>He frowned. “Are you wearing a skating costume under your clothes?”</p><p>Weirdly, Otabek’s cheeks flushed deeply at that comment. He shook his head, saying nothing. Yuri remembered what he’d said about chickening out. Self-conscious was not a look he was used to on Beka.</p><p>“Is this” — he pointed to Otabek’s feet — “what you wanted to show me?” Otabek nodded. “Well, okay then.” He reached down and yanked the leg of Otabek’s sweats up, expecting the fabric to stop. Instead, it just continued up, at least past his knee, which was as far as Yuri could get the sweats.</p><p>Otabek gently removed Yuri’s hand and smoothed his pant leg back down. “Maybe this was a bad idea,” he said with a grimace.</p><p>Yuri, not a person known for his patience, yelled, “For fuck’s sake, Beka, just take your clothes off already! I don’t give a shit if you’re wearing a clown suit under there, I want to see! I won’t laugh at you!”</p><p>The corners of Otabek’s mouth turned up, just a little. He cleared his throat. “Okay. I bought… um… it’s… oh, god, I’ll just show you.” He stood up, whipped his shirt over his head, yanked his pants off, and sat back down. “There,” he said unceremoniously.</p><p>Yuri’s mouth fell open. A little drool came out. He wasn’t proud of it, but anyone in his situation would have done the same.</p><p>Otabek Altin sat in front of him in a matching set of black lingerie. It started at his feet, which Yuri only now realized were covered by silk stockings that travelled all the way up to his mid-thighs, where they ended in rings of lace. Black garters held them up, connected to a lace belt around his waist, which bisected his million-pack abs that Yuri always wanted to lick on sight. Above that was a black bralette, through which Otabek’s perfect brown nipples were visible. But the pièce de résistance, which Yuri couldn’t stop staring at, was the underwear. </p><p>They were definitely made for men, since there was plenty of room for Otabek’s above-average package, but they could only be accurately categorized as <em> panties</em>. They were made of lace everywhere except for the part covering his cock — seemed unfair — and if Otabek didn’t get up off the fucking couch so that Yuri could see what his ass looked like wrapped in lace he was going to fucking scream.</p><p>Yuri’s ears rang so loudly that he didn’t realize Otabek was talking to him. “I saw them online,” he said, “and I thought I might… like… them… and I thought maybe you would…” Yuri wondered why he was trying to justify his decision. Just the look of him justified it. The ESPN Body Issue people would make Otabek’s family millionaires for generations to come for just one shot of him like this. Yuri felt truly, deeply blessed to be here to see it. He didn’t even care anymore that he’d lost to Katsudon today. He’d throw every program for the next ten years if he could just get his mouth on Otabek’s dick.</p><p>“...I feel a little silly,” Otabek said. This was probably the part where Yuri was supposed to say something, but he didn’t have control of his mouth yet.</p><p>“Okay, I’m putting my clothes back on,” Otabek declared.</p><p>“NO!” Yuri yelled. His voice echoed in the sparse hotel room.</p><p>Otabek actually looked a little scared. “No?”</p><p>“No, fuck no, oh my god!” Apparently, Yuri could speak again. “You are never wearing clothes again, you are going to wear that all the time, even when you skate! Except no, you’re not, because I don’t want anyone else to see! If Victor or the piggy or <em> JJ </em> saw this I would have to kill them immediately!!!”</p><p>Otabek was laughing now, his cheeks still thoroughly red. “So you like it, then?”</p><p>“Oh, Beka, you are so fucking stupid sometimes,” Yuri said. Then he launched himself at his boyfriend.</p><p>Yuri kissed him greedily, biting his lips and pulling at his hair. He always thought Beka was a three-course meal, but in this outfit, he was a whole buffet, and Yuri was fucking <em> starving. </em> Otabek slid his hands up the back of Yuri’s t-shirt — technically, his own t-shirt — and happily returned the kisses.</p><p>Yuri broke away to crawl properly into Otabek’s lap, where he could get a better look at him. He slid his hands down Otabek’s chest, fingers sliding over the lace of the bralette. He pinched one nipple through it, trying to get a reaction out of him. Yuri screamed like a wildcat during sex, but Otabek was notoriously quiet. Yuri pinched harder until Otabek moaned softly beneath him. He moved his mouth down to his other nipple, mouthing at it sloppily through the fabric, then, because he couldn’t resist, bent down to lick a thick stripe across Otabek’s abs.</p><p>It was around when he was slipping his fingers in Otabek’s panties — which, god, were so soft where they were silky, and pleasantly scratchy on the lacy bits — that Yuri realized he’d never actually told Otabek how good he looked. He had called him stupid and then kissed him, which, listen, that was how Yuri Plisetsky showed love, but he didn’t want Beka’s feelings to be hurt. So he stopped, with one hand around the base of Otabek’s cock, and said, as eloquently as he could, “You look fucking hot in this.”</p><p>Otabek looked up at him with glazed eyes. “Yeah?”</p><p>“Fuck yes.” There, he said it, and Beka was smiling, and he liked that, but now back to touching, touching, touching Otabek’s cock, which was fully hard and dripping precome onto Yuri’s hand and into the panties, and nope, that was too hot, Yuri was going to die if he didn’t suck Otabek’s dick like <em> right fucking now. </em> He wriggled off Otabek’s lap and dropped to his knees in front of the couch, taking as much of his boyfriend’s cock in his mouth as he could.</p><p>Otabek jolted above him, letting loose a deep moan that sounded a lot like <em>"</em><em>Yura”</em>  and tangling his fingers in Yuri’s hair. Yuri used a hand to cover what he couldn’t get down his throat, letting his saliva coat it so he could glide up and down Otabek’s cock in one motion. He slid the other hand down Otabek’s legs, feeling the satin that covered them. It was so soft, even when he lifted Beka’s foot up and tickled the bottom until he was squirming in Yuri’s mouth. He dragged his hand back to the top of the stockings and grabbed at the straps, pulling one back experimentally and letting it snap against Otabek’s leg. It earned him a muted <em> “fuck!” </em> from above, which from Otabek was practically begging, so Yuri did it again and again, letting the strap snap down harder and harder, until Otabek tightened his hold on Yuri’s hair and came into his mouth, the muscles in his thighs contracting under the stockings.</p><p>Yuri swallowed and waited, letting him come down, then gently removed his mouth and slipped the panties back over Otabek’s cock. He climbed back up on the couch. Otabek’s eyes were still closed, his breaths coming in heavy pants. Without even opening his eyes, he reached over and started pulling the fly of Yuri’s jeans.</p><p>Yuri batted him away, finally making Otabek open his eyes. “Don’t do me yet. I want to wait until you’re ready to go again, and then you can fuck me in that.”</p><p>Otabek opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again and smiled. His skin was flushed and shiny with sweat, his eyes hazy in the afterglow. “So it was okay?”</p><p>“YES! Fuck! <em>'Was it okay?’”  </em>Yuri did a poor impression of Otabek’s accent. “You look like a fucking model. Were you really afraid to show me?”</p><p>“Really,” Otabek confirmed.</p><p>“But you don’t get afraid when I ask you to do all kinds of weirdo shit to me.”</p><p>“I know,” Otabek said. “This just felt… personal. I can’t explain it.”</p><p>“Well, <em> personally, </em> I think you look fucking sexy and I love you.”</p><p>Otabek smiled. “I love you too. Thank you. For this.”</p><p>Yuri snuggled closer, nudging Otabek’s shoulder with his head. “You can tell me all the weird things you want to do. Even if you say you want to do it in a clown suit, I’ll put on a red nose and honk it for you, okay?”</p><p>Otabek laughed. “Okay.”</p><p>“Good.” Yuri gave him a quick kiss. “Now stand up already, so I can look at your ass!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you very much to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solovei">Solovei</a> for betaing &lt;3.</p><p>You can find me <a href="http://kyrstin.tumblr.com">on Tumblr</a>.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>